


a favour

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: FatT Rarepair Swap, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 08:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: “Oh, hey, we’re both wearing velvet!” “Oh… is that velvet?”Territory and Half-Past get Captain Flashback a new dress.





	a favour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mercutioes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercutioes/gifts).



> my gift for the fatt rarepair swap!! I couldn't pass up an opportunity to write about these three - I hope you like it!!
> 
>  
> 
> also thanks to maddie for looking it over!!

The spaceport market is crowded, people bumping into Absolute Territory and Half-Past as they make their way through the stalls. In a way that’s good, becoming two faces in a crowd of thousands is what’s going to let them pick up the supplies they need and get out (hopefully) without incident. That doesn’t mean Territory has to particularly  _ like _ it though, as he squeezes through the press of bodies to catch up to Half-Past.

 

Half-Past moves much faster through the crowd, using a combination of elbows and glares to get people to move aside. It doesn’t work, so much, when Territory tries it. It’s extremely annoying. He is a  _ prince _ , after all. He used to be good at this sort of thing. Maybe he’s just getting a little too good at his commoner disguise.

 

He catches up to Half-Past as Half-Past ducks into a clothing store, pushing past racks of medium-quality jackets towards the back of the store, where Half-Past is considering a row of higher-than-he-would-have-expected-quality gowns hanging along the back wall. Half-Past reaches out, gently touching the hem of the dark green velvet one closest to him.

 

“That cut would look terrible on you,” says Territory, by way of greeting.

 

“I think I could pull it off,” says Half-Past mildly.

 

Half-Past seems unaffected by his comment, which only adds to the niggling, background annoyance that’s been prickling under Territory’s skin since they arrived at the market. A fan buzzed in the corner of the room, blowing Territory’s hair out of place. It did not help his mood.

 

“Anyway,” adds Half-Past, “I wasn’t thinking of it for me. I was thinking of it for Captain Flashback.”

 

Territory looks back up at the dress on the wall, picturing the way it would cling to Flashback’s waist before billowing out, offering flashes of skin as she walked the length of her ship, tall and commanding.

 

Half-Past was looking at him expectantly.

 

“It’s… much nicer than the other dress she has,” says Territory, his voice perfectly level, thank you very much.

 

Half-Past nods. “That’s what I thought.” He pauses. “You should get it for her.”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re the one with the extra creds,” says Half-Past.

 

“I don’t see why that means I should buy her a dress,” says Territory.

 

“She got you those gloves,” says Half-Past.

 

“I never  _ asked _ her to get me those gloves,” says Territory, “I just said I  _ liked _ them.”

 

“But she still got them for you. Plus! You didn’t like the dress she  _ has _ and you seem to like  _ this _ one,” says Half-Past, “and besides, what if we need to sneak into a fancy party one day?”

 

“Then I’ll do the sneaking and the two of you can wait on the ship,” says Territory.

 

“Like Flashback would ever allow that to happen.”

 

Territory makes an annoyed noise at the back of his throat. “I don’t need a  _ babysitter _ .”

 

“That’s not why she--.” Half-Past lowers his voice, “You’re just important, you know? She wants to watch out for you.”

 

Territory swallows around a sudden lump in his throat, pushing away thoughts of old bodyguards and their fates.

 

“I don’t need someone to watch out for me, I’m a _ master sorcerer _ , I can watch out for myself.”

 

Half-Past makes a face. “You know what I mean.”

 

“I rarely do,” says Territory.

 

Half-Past makes a frustrated sound, looking back up to the dress. The fan blew over the material, making the pattern woven into the velvet gleam even in the store’s dim lighting. Territory runs his eyes over it again. It really is a beautiful dress. Much too beautiful to be appreciated by this store’s normal clientele, he’s certain. And Flashback  _ does  _ seem to have at least a passable eye when it comes to fashion, even if she doesn’t own anything as nice as his wardrobe.

 

“Fine, man,” says Half-Past, “If you’re not going to get it for her I will.”

 

“I thought you didn’t have the creds for it,” says Territory.

 

Half-Past shrugs. “So I’ll use what I was going to use on weapon upgrades. I mean, I don’t  _ need _ a non-jamming barrel. Or that second round of laser bullets. Or--”

 

Territory lets out an annoyed breath. “Don’t be ridiculous, you need those. If you’re really  _ that _ set on getting the dress,  _ I’ll  _ get it.”

 

Half-Past grins. “Great! You get the dress and then wait here, I have to go grab the rest of the stuff.”

 

“Hey,” says Territory, “wait a minute--”

 

Half-Past waves to the bored salesperson behind the counter. “Hey, hi, my friend here would like to buy this dress, thanks.”

 

“I--”

 

“And would you wrap it up?” continues Half-Past over the top  of Territory, “It’s a gift.” He claps a hand on Territory’s shoulder. “Be right back!”

 

Half-Past turns, rushing out the door with a flap of his coat.

 

“You--! Ugh, forget it.”

 

“So do you want the dress or what?” says the salesperson.

 

Territory lets out a long breath and looks up at the dress again. Half-Past is right. It would look good on their captain.

 

“Sure,” says Territory, “I suppose.”

 

The material flutters as the salesperson unhooks it from the wall, the fabric of it delicate and bright against the background of the worn plasterboard of the store's walling. Territory sticks his hands in his pockets, affecting an air of boredom as the salesperson wraps the dress in a sheaf of grey paper, his fingers curling at every new crease. 

 

When it’s finally done he’s careful to take his time, ignoring the itch in his fingers as his creds go through. 

 

Half-Past is waiting for him outside, a worn hessian bag slung over his shoulder and a wooden box tucked under his arm. 

 

He grins at Territory. “Got it?”

 

“Of course I did,” says Territory, holding the parcel to his chest. 

 

Half-Past’s grin widens. “Great! She's going to love it.”

 

“After the fuss you made about it I certainly hope so,” says Territory. 

 

“I didn't make a fuss,” says Half-Past, “I'm a pirate; pirates don't fuss.”

 

Territory hums. It has the desired effect, namely replacing Half-Past’s cheerful grin with a frown. Territory hides a smile, pushing past Half-Past in the direction on the ship. 

 

“Well?” says Territory over his shoulder, “Hurry up, you’ve side tracked us enough.”

 

“Side tracked?” says Half-Past, shifting the box onto his hip as he walked, “I’ve been getting supplies!”

 

“What about this dress?”

 

“You were the one who bought the dress!”

 

“But it was your idea.”

 

“You are  _ impossible _ ,” says Half-Past.

 

“I think I’m very charming, actually,” says Territory.

 

“That’s what Flashback keeps telling me but I don’t know if I see it,” says Half-Past.

 

Territory pointedly picks up his pace, purposefully getting too far ahead of Half-Past in the crowd for Half-Past to argue with him any further.

 

It doesn’t take long to get back to the ship, weaving his way through the crew as they prepared to leave. Flashback is on the bridge, her finger tracing out their trajectory through the hard light of the map, the light of the map illuminating her smile in a purple-pink glow. Territory fiddles with the edges of the parcel for a moment. He takes half a step backwards. She’s busy, clearly, and the dress is a frivolous thing. 

 

Territory looks down at the parcel in his hands. He’ll drop the dress off at her cabin, that way he’ll avoid making a fuss over such a small thing. He can’t believe Half-Past talked him into it in the first place.

 

“Captain!” says Half-Past suddenly from behind him, “we’re back!”

 

“Finally,” says Flashback, “I was almost ready to send out a search party.”

 

“He got sidetracked,” says Territory.

 

Flashback flinches, turning to face them. She looks surprised for a moment before her face settled into the warm half-smile Territory is beginning to know very well.

 

She flicks her gaze to Half-Past. “You got sidetracked, huh? Get anything interesting?”

 

“Nah,” says Half-Past. “Well. Bits and pieces, you know. And also  _ I _ didn’t sidetracked,  _ Territory _ got sidetracked.”

 

“I did  _ not _ .”

 

“You did  _ so _ .” Half-Past turns back to Flashback. “He got you a dress.”

 

“It was Half-Past’s idea,” says Territory quickly.

 

“Barely,” says Half-Past, “and he paid for it, and got them to wrap it--”

 

“The wrapping was your idea too!” says Territory.

 

“You got me a dress?”

 

They both look back at their captain. Her cheeks are flushed a light pink, one hand still resting on the edge of the map.

 

“Uh. Yeah,” says Territory. He holds it out to her, trying to recall etiquette lessons to distract him from the hot, squirming feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Here.”

 

Flashback peels back the wrapping much more carefully than it deserves. Her eyes widen when she catches sight of the fabric, looking back up at Territory.

 

“This is… I…”

 

“It was Half-Past’s idea,” says Territory, “he found the dress, he thought you should have it.”

 

“And Territory agreed with me,” adds Half-Past.

 

“Well, I… thank you, both.” She looks down at the dress again, biting her lip.

 

“All locked away Captain!”

 

Flashback startles at the crewman’s words, blinking at him for a moment before she straightens her shoulders. “Right. Yes. You two should go take your positions for take off, the atmosphere here always makes for a bumpy exit.”

 

Half-Past nods, and puts a hand on Territory’s elbow to guide him away. Territory’s not normally one for looking back, but he does catch a small glimpse of Flashback in the mirrored doors before the slide open, looking down at the dress in her hands.

 

“That’s a good colour on you,” says Half-Past, as they head down the corridor.

 

“What?”

 

“Your blush,” says Half-Past, “It looks good on you.”

 

Heat flares in Territory’s cheeks, in what was definitely annoyance. “I am  _ not _ blushing.”

 

Half-Past raises his hands. “Whatever you say man. I’m just saying.”

 

“I am  _ not _ \-- and what are you  _ implying _ \--” splutters Territory.

 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” says Half-Past, “Just a good look for you, something to think about maybe.”

 

“You want me to think about how you think I look good?” says Territory.

 

Half-Past’s steps stutter for a moment. “What?”

 

“You just said it,” says Territory, “you think I look  _ good _ .”

 

“That’s not what a meant!” says Half-Past, a flush rising in his own cheeks.

 

“Honestly it’s the first sign of good taste I’ve seen from you,” says Territory, patting Half-Past on the shoulder as he turns towards his borrowed cabin, “I must be rubbing off on you.”

 

“You are not! And I have great taste!” says Half-Past.

 

Territory smirks to himself, and shuts the cabin door behind him.

 

\--

 

Things were the same after that, to Territory’s relief. No declarations of love, and Half-Past was kept too busy keeping the ship working to focus too much on locking him in a closet with Flashback.

 

Or, they were mostly the same.

 

Flashback’s hand would linger on his shoulder for a moment too long, or he’d catch her looking at him out of the corner of his eye, biting her lip as though she was on the edge of starting a conversation. The thing was, it was hard to tell if she’d started doing this since he (and Half-Past!) had bought her that dress, or if she’d  _ always _ been doing these things and he hadn’t noticed it before now. Had she always stood so close to him on the bridge, or had he just been unaware of the close warmth of her beside him?

 

Stranger though, was Half-Past. He kept giving Territory an odd look when he thought Territory wasn’t looking, kept finding excuses to leave the room when Territory entered. He would have thought Half-Past was mad at him, except that when Half-Past  _ was  _ caught in a room with him, he acted as he always had: never backing down from an argument and always willing to make anything a competition.

 

So when Flashback hesitantly suggests they go out for dinner while the ship refueled, Territory  _ insists _ Half-Past should come along too.

 

“What?” says Half-Past, “No, why? No.”

 

Territory looks to Flashback. “He deserves it, don’t you think? For all the good work he does here?”

 

“Just yesterday you told me my sail knots were like a drunk toddler did them,” says Half-Past.

 

Territory waves a hand. “Poor craftsmanship aside, the work you do for Flashback is important, right Captain?”

 

“I… yes of course,” says Flashback.

 

“Then it’s settled,” says Territory. “Excellent.”

 

He isn’t feeling quite so confident as he waits for them in the exit bay of the ship. Territory fiddles with his cufflink, trying to twist it so that the angle of the gemstones on each of his wrists match. It helps to keep his mind off the waiting, something he’s never been particularly good at at the best of times.

 

He glances up at the sound of the door opening. Half-Past steps out, takes one look at Territory and seems as though he wants to step right back through the doorway again. Territory raises an eyebrow, and Half-Past makes a face at him in return, heading down the metal ladder, his purple leather coat flapping around him.

 

“Flashback not here yet?” says Half-Past.

 

“Obviously,” says Territory.

 

“Right,” says Half-Past, “Obviously. So I guess we’ll just wait.”

 

Territory nods, his hand going to his cufflinks. Half-Past isn’t dressed that differently to how he’s normally dressed, but his hair is neater that usual and his boots gleam with polish.

 

“You know what, maybe I’ll just go find the captain, check how’s she’s going…”

 

“She’s just getting dressed,” says Territory, “I don’t think she needs your help with that.”

 

Half-Past’s cheeks flush slightly. “I wasn’t saying I’d help her get dressed! Just, you know, see how she’s going, see how much longer she’s going to be.”

 

Half-Past turns, moving to head towards the ladder again, and Territory catches his wrist. “Wait--”

 

Half-Past looks down to where Territory’s fingers are wrapped around his wrist, then looks slowly up at Territory.

 

Territory feels his cheeks flush, dropping Half-Past’s wrist. “Just… stay here. She’ll be down soon. There’s no need to be so dramatic about it.”

 

Half-Past clears his throat. “Right.”

 

The door opens again.

 

“See,” said Territory, “I told you she’d--”

 

Flashback is wearing the dress. It looks just as good on her as Territory had imagined, maybe even better -- he hadn’t thought about the way her long hair would look, dark and shining against the fabric, or the way the material fluttered as she climbed easily down the ladder.

 

Territory swallows hard around his suddenly dry throat.

 

“Captain, you look…” says Half-Past, “you look… the dress looks great.”

 

Flashback runs her hand through her hair, smiling at them both. “Thanks. It’s um. I thought I should wear the one you both bought me, since… you know. You’re both here.”

 

“Good choice,” says Territory.

 

Flashback’s cheeks flush a little. “All right, that’s enough from both of you, let’s go, we have a reservation and I don’t want to miss our time.”

 

“We’re not going to miss our time,” says Half-Past, “they’ll hold the table for us.”

 

“They’ll hold it for  _ me _ certainly,” says Territory,  “You’ll  _ love _ this place, it’s going to be great.”

 

It is, of course, a complete disaster.

 

It turns out when you’re a runaway prince with a bounty on your head it’s probably not the best idea to use your own name to convince the concierge to hold your table. It is, in fact, a very bad idea that means you have to leave the restaurant very quickly in the middle of your first course.

 

Half-Past uses an upturned table to shield them from the aircanon fire while Territory takes shots of lightning over the top of it.

 

“Run for the door on three?” says Half-Past, not waiting for Territory’s nod before he starts to countdown. “One… two… three!”

 

He swings the table around so their backs are to the door, pushing over their assailants with it as Territory scrambles over debris to keep up with the cover. A motorbike screeches to a halt outside, and Territory catches sight of the fluttering material of Flashback’s dress.

 

He pulls at Half-Past’s arm. “Our ride’s here.”

 

Half-Past shoves the table forward, looping an arm around Territory’s waist and half-carrying him as he breaks into a run. Territory would complain if he wasn’t so focused on continuing the stream of lightning to cover their exit. Half Past slides on behind Flashback, pressing Territory between them as Flashback takes off. Territory barely feels the wind at all, with his face pressed against Flashback’s back and Half-Past’s arms bracketing either side of him.  Territory keeps a tight grip on both of them to stop himself falling off as Flashback winds their way back to the ship.

 

Flashback drives into the hold of the ship, yelling her orders to take off before Territory has even stumbled off the bike. Half-Past catches his arm and Territory straightens,the position leaving them close enough that Territory can feel Half-Past’s chest move up and down with his breaths.

 

Someone bumps into Territory’s shoulder as they rush around the dock, jolting Territory out of his daze.

 

“We should get to the bridge,” says Half-Past.

 

Territory nods, following Half-Past up the ladder, towards Flashback.

 

She’s in full captain mode by the time they get there, moving powerfully across the bridge, setting their course, putting defensive maneuvers in place, yelling out orders that people hurried to follow. She’d pulled up her hair into an enormous bun, although she was still in her dress, a flash of bared skin at her side as she turned.

 

“Oh, it’s ripped,” says Territory, his voice sounding faint to his ears.

 

“Worry about that later,” says Flashback, pushing him into a nearby chair, “you monitor those heat sinks, Half-Past, over there, the canon controls--”

 

“Yessir,” says Half-Past, leaving Territory’s side to follow Flashback’s direction.

 

Flashback squeezes his shoulder before someone gestures frantically for her attention. The warmth of her hand lingers on his shoulder as he works, a reminder of comfort.

 

Territory’s whole focus is on monitoring the heat sinks, keeping their levels down as the canons and engines make them go up, that he barely notices when the ship slowed down until Half-Past puts a hand on his shoulder. Territory blinks up at him. The warmth of Half-Past’s hand overlaid the spot where Flashback’s had been, settling in Territory’s chest. Half-Past looks down at him, opening his mouth to speak.

 

“Come on you two,” says Flashback, “you’re off duty, let someone else take over.”

 

“Same to you, Captain,” says Half-Past, grinning.

 

Flashback sighs. “I should probably--”

 

“We should fix your dress,” says Territory.

 

Flashback looks down, running a hand along the split of the dress where it had ripped almost to her waist. She huffs a laugh. “Right. I’m not exactly a seamstress, but maybe I can keep the top of it intact enough to just wear that…”

 

“I can fix it,” says Territory.

 

“You can?” says Flashback.

 

“ _ You _ can?” says Half-Past.

 

“I’m a master sorcerer,” says Territory, “it’s nothing.” He pauses. “I just need some thread.”

 

“I...I have some, I think,” says Half-Past.

 

“Great,” says Territory, holding out his hand.

 

“Well I don’t have it  _ on _ me,” says Half-Past.

 

“We should probably also leave the bridge for this,” says Flashback.

 

Territory shrugs. “Okay. We’ll go to your quarters?”

 

Flashback’s cheeks flush. “Sure, I mean, why not, right? Half-Past, why don’t you get the thread and meet us there?”

 

“Oh, it, uh, might take me a minute to find it,” says Half-Past, fidgeting with one of his belts.

 

“It had better not,” says Flashback, “Otherwise we’ll go to  _ your _ quarters.”

 

“Okay, okay, jeez,” says Half-Past, “I just thought you might like a little privacy, that’s all.”

 

“It’s privacy enough with both of you there,” says Flashback.

 

Territory stays close to Flashback as they walk, his eyes drifting down to the rip in the dress no matter how many times he forces himself to look away. His etiquette tutors would be horrified, although perhaps this infraction would be overshadowed by everything else in his now-daily life. He bites his lip, muffling a laugh.

 

Flashback glances at him. “What?”

 

“Just thinking about how very differently my life is turning out than how it was supposed to,” says Territory.

 

Flashback slows her steps, her hand lightly touching the back of his. “Listen, I know the situation isn’t great right now, but we’ll--”

 

“No, it’s--” Territory takes her hand in his. “It’s good. It’s definitely more exciting than it was supposed to be.”

 

Flashback looks down at him, her small smile making something uncurl in his chest.

 

“Well,” says Flashback, “Good. That’s… good.”

 

Territory looks down at their joined hands. “We should probably get your dress fixed.”

 

“What?” Oh,” Flashback’s hand went to the rip. “Right, yeah. My dress. Very important.”

 

“It is,” says Territory, nodding as he began leading her forward, “it’s a very nice dress.”

 

Half-Past is already waiting for them by Flashback’s door, his already pink cheeks flushing deeper as he catches sight of them. Territory doesn’t let go on Flashback’s hand, instead catching Half-Past’s as he enters, pulling them both into the room behind him. The door slides shut, muffling the sounds of the ship.

 

“Now,” says Territory, pleased that his voice didn’t waiver, “Captain, you stand here, it’s much simpler to do this while you’re wearing the dress.”

 

Flashback presses her lip together. “Right. I’ll just…”

 

She holds her hands awkwardly at her side, obscuring the rip slightly. 

 

Territory sighs.”Here.”

 

He kneels before her, putting a hand on her hip so that the rip was in front of him and trying not to focus too much on the heat of her body under the thin fabric. Still keeping a hand on the fabric, Territory holds a hand out to Half-Past.

 

“The thread?”

 

Half-Past blinks at him. “Right! Right.”

 

Half-Past went clumsily to his knees, pulling the spool of thread from one of his many pockets. It glimmers, gem-like, in the cabin’s lighting.

 

“This will just have to do,” says Territory.

 

He focuses on the fabric and thread in his hands, pulling them together in his mind, twisting them together as easily as he did the wind. His hands began to warm, making the air crackle as the dress stitched itself back together.

 

Flashback let out a shaky breath above him, and Territory looked up at her. From this angle she towered above him, haloed in the ship’s lighting.

 

“See? Easily done.”

 

Flashback cups his cheek in her hand. “Yes. But not so easily that I can’t thank you.”

 

She bent, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and Territory’s hands flex on her thigh where they were still tangled in the fabric of her dress. Flashback gasps, pulling back a little. She licks her lips, her gaze flicking to Half-Past. Territory follows her gaze, tracing his eyes down the flush of Half-Past’s skin.

 

“I suppose you should thank him too,” says Territory. “The dress was his idea, after all.”

 

Flashback smiles, sliding her other hand easily to cup the back of Half-Past’s head. Territory’s breath sounds loud in his own ears as he watches them, the way Flashback’s nails scrape along Half-Past’s scalp, the way Half-Past’s hand clutches at his own thighs as though he were stopping himself for reaching out.

 

Flashback leant back, letting go of them as she looking down at them from her full height, one hand resting lightly on one of their shoulders. “Thank you both, for the gift.”

 

“Anytime,” croaks Half-Past.

 

“Absolutely our pleasure,” says Territory.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
